


Malus Domestica

by Oceanwhirl



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Domestic, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic smut, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sort Of, Spit As Lube, mud play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 12:11:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18521272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanwhirl/pseuds/Oceanwhirl
Summary: My NSFW fic for the domestic otayuri zine I helped work on, A Place To Call Home.It's just domestic smut ;D





	Malus Domestica

**Author's Note:**

> Malus Domestica is the latin term for your everyday standard apples. It fit so well, I didn't even plan this *-*  
> As always shoutout to my proof-reading bae Sprosslee <3<3<3

There were wasps.

"Don't worry," Otabek said with a small smile, the kind of smile that Yuri had inevitably fallen in love with. It didn't show any teeth, but it tugged on Otabek's lips and eyes just the right amount that it made Yuri's heart flutter. "You're not their preferred prey."

Yuri had learned a lot about wasps, and other insects too. Bees, dragonflies, ants, those fluffy little things that looked like the lovechild of Potya and a butterfly. Whenever Otabek encountered one in the garden he called Yuri over to show it to him. Yuri had learned a lot about flowers, too. The dahlias and the tulips, and sunflowers, because he had asked Otabek to grow sunflowers as well. But the most knowledge he had gained in the past three years was about apple trees.

The moment Otabek had laid eyes on the treetops, a gentle swaying green against the almost blinding azure of the summer sky, his entire stance had changed. He had melted from the cool, aloof bad boy with his hands in the pockets of his black jeans to a child under the christmas tree, shimmering like a polished gold coin. Yuri had known they'd buy the place right then and there. It almost seemed that the house wasn't half as important as the garden. But if it meant that Otabek felt at home here Yuri was willing to take on all the wasps and ants and spiders in the world. And at some point the smell of the soil and trees and rotting apples felt like home for him just as much as the scent of freshly made pirozhki.

When Yuri came home this warm September afternoon he found the glass door of the conservatory open. His key fell to the kitchen table with a nice, metallic sound and he shrugged off his messenger bag. "I'm home," he called for good measure although he was pretty sure Otabek was outside.

Yuri kicked his shoes aside, designer pieces that were just as fashionable as uncomfortable, as Potya came strolling around the corner. He pressed against Yuri's calves gently, his way of welcoming him back.

"At least one of my boys comes to say hello," Yuri chuckled, picking his cat up from the floor and carrying him over to the open glass door, to look for Otabek.

The warm light of the afternoon filtered through the dancing leaves of the apple trees. It looked like someone had spilled gold flakes on Otabek's toned arms and shoulders, barely covered by the black tank top. The muscles shifted under his tan skin as the worked, gentle strength and calm demeanor, making him blend in with his surroundings in lush brown and green and orange. Otabek was a natural part of his garden, down to earth and rooted deep into the soil that covered his hands and forearms and knees. Yuri stood and watched how his fiance with soil-stained hands pushed a strand of black hair from his forehead just to have it fall back again immediately, a dark brown trace of soil smeared over his eyebrow now. Relaxed but focused on the flowerbed Otabek hadn't even noticed the silent bystanders and he kept working around the pumpkins until Potya hopped off Yuri's arms. The cat made his way over to Otabek, who looked up from the big green pumpkin leaves, and then over to where Yuri leaned against the door frame.

"Oh," he exclaimed, smiling his tiny smile, "I didn't hear you coming home." He tried to push the stubborn strand from his face again, leaving more soil on his skin.

"Yeah, I noticed." Yuri walked over to the flowerbed. The grass was warm and soft against his bare feet. When they had first moved here he had been shy to walk "in the dirt", but now he understood why Otabek felt so comfortable out here. Here, in the garden, things were easy. He could peel off his everyday life, his career, the stress and the obligations and leave it all behind. In the garden there was only warmth and light and the scent of apples and the feeling of Otabek's lips when Yuri leaned down for a kiss.

"You look so pretty," Otabek murmured against Yuri's mouth, running one dirty hand over the big golden curls they had styled Yuri's mane into for the photo shoot.

"'m always pretty," Yuri reminded him with a smug grin, then leaned down and kissed him again and again until he felt drunk from Otabek’s lips and the warmth of the sunlight and Otabek's hands in his hair and on his waist.

"I'm ruining your shirt," Otabek murmured, lips dancing over Yuri’s lips, then his chin, then his throat. His voice was a low rumble in his chest, thick and warm like syrup. His hands held Yuri by the waist, calloused strong fingers that felt so familiar through the flimsy white fabric of Yuri’s blouse. After all the years that still made his heart flutter in his chest.

“I’ll get a new one,” he answered. From his bent position he could peek under Otabek’s tank top that hung loosely from his muscular shoulders hiding nothing. Yuri’s eyes followed the line of Otabek’s collar bones, down his rippled sternum. Otabek’s nipples stood out from his caramel tan chest like made of teak, his skin shimmered of sweat. Yuri swallowed as he imagined what it must feel like to let his hands run over this perfect body now. 

But why only imagine? 

With a smirk he placed his finger tips on Otabek’s shoulders, pressing into the firm flesh. Otabek sighed against his throat and pulled him closer by the hip. 

With a low chuckle Yuri fell onto his knees. “You’re ruining my pants.”

“I’ll get you a new one.” At the same time as Otabek’s lips were back on Yuri’s neck his fingers slid under the shirt. They both sighed when he touched the sensitive skin under Yuri’s ribs. It felt good, even though Otabek probably left the same soil traces on Yuri’s body that he had smeared over his own forehead. Dark brown soil on his lotioned, perfumed, white skin. The thought made Yuri’s breath hitch. 

Otabek’s lips were just as deft as his fingers, making Yuri bite his lower lip, but when he felt Otabek’s teeth and tongue against his throat he couldn’t hold back a hoarse moan. He pushed Otabek away, looking at him with glowing cheeks.

“You wanna take that off?”

Yuri nodded.

“You wanna take that off out here, in the garden?”

When Yuri nodded again, Otabek smiled. “We’ll get you all dirty.”

“Yes.”

“The neighbors might see us.  _ Hear _ us.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Without another word, just his mischievous smile on his lips, Otabek pulled his hands from Yuri’s skin, and started opening the small white buttons down Yuri’s chest. “Pretty,” he whispered when he bared the pale pecs, kissing the exposed skin softly, then opened more buttons until he could brush the fabric from Yuri’s dainty shoulders. He looked up, his fingers following his eyes from Yuri’s abs up his ribs and chest until he buried them in the blond curls that fell around Yuri’s flushed face. “So pretty.” 

Yuri’s eyes fell shut when Otabek kissed him, gentle but deep, his hands leading Yuri to lay back on the white fabric pooling around his hips and the soft warm grass. And Yuri pulled Otabek with him, his fingers clinging to his skin so he’d not break the kiss.

It was overwhelming, the warmth and light of the sun, tinting his vision a dark red when it filtered through his eyelids, Otabek’s mouth and hands on his body. He was so close Yuri could smell his scent, musky and sweet, mixing with the scent of soil and leaves and apples. Intoxicating. Otabek’s lips following the muscles and sinews of his neck, down to his clavicles, down to his chest. Yuri whined when Otabek caught his nipples with teasing incisors, then kissing and licking gently. His hands felt heavy on Yuri’s ribs, strong and soft at the same time. He bowed against them, his body screaming for more pressure, more teeth, more  _ anything _ . His pants were so tight and his head so light.

“Otabek,” he whispered, looking at him through fluttering lashes, scraping his nails over the back of Otabek’s head, the hair short and soft under his fingertips.

And Otabek hummed, and sat back, pulled his tank top over his head. Gold flakes on tan skin, teak, soil. Yuri sighed. He sighed again when Otabek leaned down to place his lips on Yuri’s, pulling back with an “Oh” and looked down at his left hand where he had leaned into the ground of the flower bed, wet from the watering. His fingers were black but Yuri pulled him down again, tugging on his neck and kissed him, deep and hungry. Otabek kissed him back, caressing his neck, leaving smudges.

“Otabek,” Yuri whispered against his lips, feeling dizzy.

With a deep, shuddering exhale Otabek leaned back again. He let his hands travel down Yuri’s body, the left one painting a moist, dark line all the way down to the waistband. It took only seconds to gently peel the pants and underwear from Yuri’s long legs. 

The air felt warm on his bare skin. Yuri’s erection lay heavy on his lower stomach, twitching when Otabek pulled the foreskin back with dirty hands and wrapped his lips around the tip. Yuri threw his head back, his fingers digging into the ground. Again he whispered Otabek’s name, then again, until it felt that it was the only word he could think of with those teeth and tongue making him lose his mind. 

Then it went deeper, all the way back, until the tip got pressed against the roof of Otabek’s mouth, squeezed against the gum by an eager tongue. His whisper became a breathless groan, “Otabek, Otabek.”

The way Otabek angled his jaw when he started moving his head made Yuri claw into the ground, grass ripping from the soil with a faint sound. Otabek moved steadily, slowly, but with so much strength Yuri couldn’t even moan his name anymore, just make weak noises. 

Otabek kept going, his head bobbing up and down and his thumb and index finger closed around the base of Yuri’s erection tightly. And then there was a finger, wet from the spit that ran down Yuri’s cock and tight balls, a soft finger going inside. It made Yuri squirm, although he knew it made the blowjob unnecessarily complicated for Otabek. It just felt so good, to have Otabek push inside, even if it was only a finger for once. Because Yuri knew it would soon be more than a finger, carefully opening him up until the second digit slid inside effortlessly. The stretch made Yuri feel even more aroused than he could have imagined until he felt that he might come from the mind blowing double sensation of Otabek’s hands and mouth any second. Too soon!

“Otabek, stop!” he whined, although he really didn’t want him to stop. “I’m gonna come if you...”

Otabek let go of him with both his mouth and hands and Yuri felt like he could breathe for the first time in hours. He forced his eyes open. The string of saliva between the tip of his cock and Otabek’s lower lip glittered in the sunlight. “Otabek,” he croaked, like a mantra, like a prayer. It was enough, though. Otabek understood, he always did.

With pupils blown so wide his eyes almost looked black he pulled down the zipper of his pants, then popped the button open to reveal his thick, pulsing erection. Yuri could see precum glisten on the slit, the head flushed and shiny and Yuri was so ready for it. He let Otabek spread his white legs and bend his knees, so that Otabek could position between them. His cock felt so hard against Yuri’s hole.

Otabek’s left hand gently rubbed Yuri’s balls, his right held his cock in place. He let saliva drop from his lower lip onto the tip, then rubbed it over the flesh with a barely audible sigh.

The feeling of Otabek’s hard, wet cock against his hole made Yuri moan. “Please,” he begged, his heart hammering in his chest and his body yearning. “I need you!”

Otabek looked up at his face and pressed inside. It was the most intense feeling ever. Otabek was big and the stretch was just the slightest bit painful but Yuri knew that would fade away within moments. When it did Otabek leaned forward, his hands next to Yuri’s head, the left one in the wet soil of the flower bed. He moaned when he bottomed out, squeezing his eyes shut for a second, then pulling back again. 

Yuri tugged on Otabek’s hair, then grabbed his back with dirty fingers as he thrusted back in, not too fast, but powerful. Under the warm skin Yuri could feel the muscles shift. He scratched down Otabek’s back and then up again, pulling him closer, deeper, until they felt like one. Otabek filled him so good,  _ so good _ , making Yuri moan and press his face in the crook of Otabek’s neck. 

“Otabek!” he moaned, well aware that he was loud, but he needed Otabek to know, make him feel and hear how divine he felt. His insides scorching he grit his teeth while Otabek met this spot again and again, so deep inside. “Otabek, please!”

When Otabek sat up his hair was tousled and his jaw set. The intense look of his dark eyes made Yuri whine. “You’re so pretty,” Otabek said, his voice calm, but the blush on his cheeks spoke louder than his words. His hands grasped the ribs under soil-stained white skin. It almost hurt, but only almost and Yuri lost himself in Otabek’s powerful grip and powerful thrusts as he fucked into him deep and hard and wonderful. He couldn’t look away. Otabek’s lips parted in a breathless moan, his eyebrows wrinkling, his entire soil-stained body convulsing, when he came inside of him. Yuri came too, moaning and spurting all over his stomach and chest.

After two more thrusts, each of them weaker than the one before, Otabek exhaled slowly, then pulled out. Yuri could feel the cum trickle out, but for once he didn’t have to worry about their bed sheets and let it happen. Instead he pulled Otabek down onto the grass, snuggling up closer and inhaling his scent when Otabek wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

“I really ruined all your clothes with my dirty hands,” Otabek murmured after a moment, the smile audible in his voice. Yuri could feel him fidgeting with the blouse he half laid on.

“More importantly, you ruined me,” Yuri chuckled against his pecs, pressing a kiss onto the warm skin.

A low laugh made Otabek’s chest vibrate. “That’s not news to me.”

The sun fell through the leaves, dancing warm spots on both their bodies. The gentle hand running through Yuri’s hair and the scent of sex and soil and rotting apples lulled Yuri to sleep. He didn’t even answer to the murmured “I love you” but hummed and snuggled up against Otabek’s chest, steady and reliable like the trunk of an apple tree. Otabek would understand. He always did.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I grew up in a house with six apple trees in the garden, can you tell? ^^


End file.
